satorella

[satorella]

she laid curled beneath the sheets, chest rising in those soft, practiced breaths she always used when she wanted to pretend she was asleep. she looked so still, so peaceful, but kaiser wasn’t fooled. he knew her tells too well. the faint twitch of her fingers. the subtle tension clinging to her jaw. she thought she was being clever, slipping into sleep just to catch him off guard, hoping for a moment of vulnerability.

but tonight wasn’t her night. tonight, she wasn’t running the game. she was trapped inside his. kaiser sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but his briefs, smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. he reached over and gently brushed her hair back, knuckles grazing her temple with a tenderness that belied the wicked gleam in his eyes.

“mmm,” he murmured, just loud enough to rattle her resolve. “so peaceful. so soft. such a shame you’re not actually asleep, maus.”

she didn’t flinch or blink. her breathing stayed steady, perfectly even. but when his hand skimmed down over her hip and traced a whisper-light path along her thigh, he caught the smallest shiver tremble through her legs.

gotcha.

“you really think i don’t know my girl?” he purred, his voice a warm drag of silk as his fingers traced teasing circles along her bare skin. “you think i don’t feel the way your breath stutters when i touch you like this?”

her lips twitched barely, but she stayed silent. still pretending. still trying to win. kaiser bit back a laugh. oh, he was going to break her.

“still keeping up the act?” he asked, feigning innocence, his voice smooth and lazy. his fingers wandered higher, skimming dangerously close to her inner thigh. “you want me to keep touching you, maus? want me to play nice? or are you finally gonna admit that you’re wide awake and desperate for me?”

no answer, just quiet defiance. so he leaned in, lips brushing over the shell of her ear when he whispered. “i can keep this up all night. you know that, right?”

and then he tested her. his hand slid under the hem of her shirt, calloused fingertips dragging across the soft plane of her stomach. when he flicked his tongue across her earlobe, her legs jumped ever so slightly.

“aw, maus,” he teased, smiling against her throat. “that was almost impressive. almost.”

his hand dipped lower, fingers slow and deliberate as they crept toward her thighs again. by the time he brushed along the edge of her underwear, her breath hitched for a second. he grinned.

“you’re shaking,” he murmured. “poor thing. trying so hard to keep up the act. but you know what i love more than your little games?” his lips met the curve of her neck, warm and possessive. “when you beg.”

and just like that, like the snap of a string, she cracked. a whimper slipped out, soft and broken. her voice followed, rough with breath and defeat. “fuck you,” she muttered.

his grin widened. “there she is.”

the moonlight filtered in through the curtains, casting pale ribbons of silver across the sheets. kaiser lay still, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm, mouth parted just slightly. pretending to sleep. and he was good at it, really good. but not good enough to fool her. not when she knew the way his body thrummed with tension just beneath the surface. not when she could feel the tightness in his abs as her fingers ghosted over his skin.

she started slow. her touch barely there. just the pads of her fingers brushing beneath the hem of his shirt, following the ridges of his abs, dragging lower, but never quite enough. never where he really needed her.

leaning over him, she let her lips brush the side of his face. “you asleep, baby?” nothing, but the same even breathing. she smirked. “liar.”

her hand dipped down, sliding over the sharp cut of his v-line, dancing along the waistband of his briefs. she didn’t go further yet. she could feel how tightly wound he was beneath her, how much effort it was taking for him to keep still. kaiser wanted to grab her wrist. he wanted to flip her underneath him and make her pay for playing like this. but he didn’t move or twitch.

if he cracked now, she’d win and he never lost.

she dragged her fingers back up his torso, this time letting her nails scrape lightly against his skin, just enough to make his muscles tighten. her lips found the corner of his jaw, breath fanning over him in slow, deliberate waves.

“you’re really gonna keep pretending, huh?” she whispered as she straddled his hips, her weight feather-light against him, lips trailing along the line of his throat.

she rocked forward, enough for him to feel her heat through the thin fabric between them. and god, he almost groaned. but he stayed still.

until she leaned in again, breath hot against his ear. “guess i’ll just take care of myself then.”

that nearly broke him. her hips shifted back with maddening slowness, grinding against him just enough to feel the growing hardness beneath his briefs. he was already hard. she felt it, paused, and then did it again. a long, slow roll of her hips. his cock twitched. still, he didn’t move and he wouldn’t.

her voice was a taunt, a breathless challenge. “you’re gonna crack, pretty boy.”

her hand slipped between her own thighs. fingers disappearing beneath her panties as she rocked harder against him, dragging herself over his length with wicked precision.

that was it.

a low growl tore from his throat before he could stop it. his hand flew to her hip, yanking her down hard against him. “you little brat.”

she gasped. then grinned, all teeth and triumph. “took you long enough.”

he didn’t hesitate. in one fluid motion, he flipped them, pinning her wrists to the bed, caging her beneath him as his wild blond hair fell around his face like a halo of chaos.

“you wanna play games?” he growled thick with lust and dark amusement. “then let’s fucking play.”

[satorella]

“you like when i talk about it, don’t you?” sae muttered like silk dragged through smoke. he had that lazy smirk on his face, the one he wore when he had you exactly where he wanted.

bent over, thighs shaking, ass up in the air. you were thick, soft, absolutely obscene the way it jiggled every time he touched you.

“can’t stop staring at this fat fuckin’ pussy every time you bend over for me,” he said, dragging two fingers along your inner thigh, slow and taunting. he didn’t even touch your cunt yet. he traced the curve of you, your thick, plush skin warm and trembling under his hands. his fingers found the mess between your legs, and he groaned under his breath. “so warm. so wet. fuck, so messy already and i haven’t even started.”

he parted your folds with one slow swipe, then spat. watched it drip down like it belonged there, like it was just another thing soaking your greedy little hole. “this fat little cunt is fucking perfect.”

he sounded almost reverent when he said it. not like he was giving you a compliment, but like he was making a statement. a fact. something undeniable. something his.

“you clench up when i talk about it.” his thumb pressed right into your swollen clit and circled cruelly slow and filthy. “you like that? you want me to say it again? how fuckin’ fat this pussy is? how it grips me like it doesn’t wanna let go?”

you moaned, hips rolling back, trying to get more, but he held you still.

“yeah, that’s right. can barely take me.” he slid in an inch, then stopped. his cock pulsed, fat and throbbing against your entrance, teasing your folds like he had all the time in the world.

your pussy squeezed down, greedy for more and he growled.

“shit,” he breathed. “squeezin’ me so tight already. like a spoiled fuckin’ brat of a cunt—always wanting more. always hungry.”

sae wasn’t loud. he didn’t yell, didn’t bark orders. no, he was quiet. the kind of man who dragged his cock along every swollen inch of your pussy with patience and purpose until you were crying without a sound.

“all this fat?” his hand palmed your pussy, spreading you open like he was showing it off. “all these soft lips, all this heat—just for me?”

his cock sank into you deep. his breath stuttered against your neck as he filled you to the hilt.

“fuck, i should be mad,” he whispered, forehead against yours. “you’re so good for me, it’s disgusting.”

the sound of him fucking you echoed off the walls. wet, filthy, every thrust louder than the last. your thighs trembled beneath him, spread wide, skin soft and giving under his grip.

“bet if i came right now,” he panted into your ear, “your pretty little cunt would still be begging for more. look how puffed up you are. look at it.”

he pulled out just to slap your pussy once. not hard, but enough to make the fat jiggle. enough to watch you twitch and cry out.

“god, you’re dripping. this fat pussy’s so messy it’s embarrassing.” he licked his lips, eyes locked on the way your folds clung to him. “i should take a picture of this shit. let you see what i see.”

you whimpered and he chuckled darkly.

“what? you like that?” he rubbed his cock along your soaked entrance, slow and mean. “like it when i talk about your sloppy pussy like it’s something filthy? something i own?”

he didn’t wait for your answer. he drove in with one sharp thrust and you choked on a gasp. the air punched from your lungs.

“tight,” he hissed. “so fuckin’ tight i can’t even think straight. fuck, i could die in this pussy.”

and the way he said it? the way his hips ground into yours like he wanted to disappear in your softness? he meant it. eyes rolled back. hands gripping your thighs like he needed to anchor himself. his control was gone, shattered, all for you.

“no one else,” he said wrecked. “no one’s ever gonna feel this. no one’s gonna see how this pussy hugs my cock like it knows me.”

he was buried to the base, grinding thrusts now, making you feel every inch. one hand on your thigh, fingers sinking into the thick flesh. the other under your chin, lifting your head so you had no choice but to look at him.

“say it’s mine.”

your lips parted, the words barely leaving your throat before he fucked them back down hard, deep, rough. you let him, because it was his. it always had been.

[satorella]

The thought of Levi having an underground accent like Kenny but hiding it on purpose so he doesnt get looked down upon has been gnawing at my brain. Im going feral. What if it slips out when he’s real angry or real drunk??? I imagine the only people who are aware of it are Hange, Erwin, and Mike. Erwin and Mike never point it out knowing it would make Levi self conscious but Hange will straight up imitate him at first only to realize he’s embarrassed and then she feels so so so bad and says it’s pretty cool.

THEN SASHA HAPPENS

A girl also with an accent that is seen as “dumb” or “lowly”. One that makes people assume she’s stupid for having it.

Levi watches her engage in the same exact bullshit he does, hiding her accent to fit in better.

One night everyone else is asleep but them two and Sasha is too tired to put the mental effort into changing her accent and it slips out as she hands Levi something and she’s super embarrassed and immediately code switched goes “ah sorry about that, Captain, not a very polite way to speak I know” and Levi just replies in his own natural dialect like “y’aint gotta worry ‘bout it” not even making eye contact and Sasha is so shook but its so meaningful and small and wow Humanity’s Strongest^tm also has a heehaw accent?! And she feels better about herself.

[satorella]

I’m sorry but I just gotta say that I LOVE Gaoshun’s very real phobia of Jinshi’s attachment to Maomao. He’s painfully aware that he can’t just find Jinshi a new girl to make him stop crying. He knows that man is going to cry for the rest of his life and there’s nothing he can do about it. ;-;

For Gaoshun’s sake Maomao NEEDS to reciprocate Jinshi’s feelings 🤣

[satorella]

I cannot engage with the Attack on Titan fandom on Tumblr, it is seriously one of the most frustrating and intellectually dishonest fandom spaces to engage with. The anime is one of, if not the, best written animes out there. Even though Gojo is my favorite character, AOT trumps JJK by miles but I rarely engage with or talk about it because it’s really just a minefield of bad-faith discourse, pseudo-intellectualism, and fandom headcanons being pushed as canon. The sheer volume of misinformation and emotional projection passed off as “analysis” is getting ridiculous, and worse, any attempt to correct it is met with hostility, dogpiling, or moral accusations.

One of the most annoying problems is the rampant use of therapy-speak to analyze fictional characters in ways that are neither clinically accurate nor narratively grounded. Characters are casually diagnosed with disorders based on fanon interpretations, and this language is often used to shut down any alternative readings. Instead of trying to understand a character’s arc within the worldbuilding and the actual logic of the story, people default to pop psychology to assign them a label. These labels then become a protective shield for their headcanon, so if anyone disagrees, they’re accused of invalidating trauma. It is no longer about engaging with fiction it’s about this weird obsession chronically online people seem to have with moral superiority.

This infantilization of adult men is getting out of hand, particularly Levi. Levi is a grown man in his 30s who has survived war, unimaginable loss, and a lifetime of violence. He’s competent, brutal, and emotionally guarded for a reason. And yet, fandom constantly reduces him to a fragile, baby-coded victim who must be coddled and protected from any narrative complexity. Trauma does not erase adulthood, and it doesn’t mean a character cannot be sexually experienced, morally ambiguous, or able to move forward from their past traumas. But for some reason, fandom sees male trauma as an excuse to strip a character of all agency and maturity, while simultaneously treating female trauma as proof of strength and sexual autonomy.

This selective interpretation of trauma is also glaring in the fandom’s fixation on characters’ sexuality and virginity. You all are seriously deranged when it comes to that shit. It’s glaringly obvious to me a lot of you have very limited life experience. Grown adults spend hours arguing over whether or not Levi is a virgin, as if this has any bearing on his moral worth or emotional capacity. And it always comes back to “he’s too traumatized to have sex,” which is just another way the fandom strips him of agency. Like, sorry, but being traumatized doesn’t make someone a child. It doesn’t mean they can’t be sexual or experienced. That logic is weird, infantilizing, and honestly pretty puritanical. The likelihood he is a virgin is incredibly slim. You can come at me with “well actually” but that’s just rooted in your weird chronically online view, projection and your therapist speak that has no actual substance. 

Then there’s the way people treat smut writers like they’re ruining the fandom. Writers will post some really great and fun smut and it gets torn apart, while the same people are posting 4k word meta essays diagnosing characters with five different personality disorders. Writing Levi as someone who has sex or knows what he’s doing isn’t out of character. Pretending he’s a delicate flower who’s never even thought about sex? That’s way more out of pocket.. Writing Levi with sexual agency does not violate canon, it actually makes sense for his character who’s again, a grown man in his 30s.

People are no longer interested in what a character is, they are invested in what the character can be twisted to mean to them, and they will rewrite the text to protect that meaning at all costs. Canon is only respected when it affirms their feelings. When it doesn’t, it’s either ignored, reinterpreted beyond recognition, or treated like a moral failing of the creators. There is no room for disagreement, no space for nuance, and no tolerance for realism. The fandom is so caught up in its emotional self-projection that it has lost the ability to talk about the story as it was written. And I promise you taking screenshots of the manga and reinterpreting the scene to fit what you want is also just projection. 

I know I will get flooded with hate messages because that’s how the the Attack on Titan fandom operates. Because if you say any of this out loud, even calmly and with evidence, you’re immediately labeled “mean” or “unsafe.” But the truth is, noticing these things isn’t toxic. It’s honest. Wanting to engage with characters as they are, not as you wish they were, isn’t a bad thing.

Just to be clear…I’m not talking about regular headcanons. Headcanons are fun. People are allowed to imagine whatever they want, ship whoever they want, and write characters however they see them. That’s the whole point of fandom. I am not talking about any of that. Feel free to write how you want, or headcanon whatever you want. So if that’s you. You’re awesome keep having fun. What I’m calling out is when people take those headcanons or interpretations and try to pass them off as canon truth. When they write meta that’s really just fanon, and then act like you’re wrong or harmful for not agreeing. That’s where the problem starts. It stops being about personal creativity and becomes about controlling the narrative and that’s not fun fandom stuff anymore. That’s just delusion.

[satorella]

Ngl i feel like there was a massive fumble on Geto's part here, like say whatever you want about Gojo Satoru but the one thing he don't play about is Love.

[satorella]

sae edging you 𖹭

“you don’t know when to quit, do you?”

sae’s tone is flat, condescending, as he slams you back onto his cock. the sharp slap of skin echoes through the room as your body jolts forward, a helpless moan spilling from your lips.

“ah—! s-sae, fuck—!” you sob, the stretch of him obscene, your walls fluttering pathetically around his cock as he holds your hips in a bruising grip.

“this what you wanted, right?” he sneers, delivering a sharp spank that makes your back arch. “acting like a fucking brat all day, running that mouth—now you can’t even take my cock without crying.”

you whimper, trying to rock your hips back, but sae’s grip tightens. he’s deep—too deep—and he knows it. the slow grind of his hips has your vision blurring, every roll of his cock dragging across sensitive spots that have your legs trembling. “sae—p-please, mngh—m c-cumming, i—i need—” you babble, words falling apart as the pressure builds, but sae only clicks his tongue, pace cruelly slow.

“tch. needy little thing. you don’t get to ask for shit.” his voice is cold, but the way his cock drags so deliberately, so painfully slow, has you clenching around him involuntarily.

“look at you,” he breathes, leaning over your back, his chest flush to yours as his cock stays buried inside. “dripping all over me. can’t even hold it in.” you keen at his words, a mix between a whimper and a sob, your juices soaking his length, pooling down your thighs. he feels it, sees it, and his smirk deepens.

“you’re creaming on my cock and i’ve barely fucked you yet. pathetic.” he pulls out to the tip—agonizingly slow—before snapping his hips back in, knocking the breath out of you. you scream his name, nails clawing at the sheets.

“you want to cum, right?” another sharp thrust, making you cry out. “say it. beg like the needy slut you are.”

“p-please, sae—ah!—need you to fuck me harder, please—need to cum!” your voice breaks, desperate, the ache between your legs unbearable. “there you go,” he says flatly, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you back. his cock pistons into you without mercy now, pace brutal, punishing, the sound of your pussy squelching loud between each thrust.

“fuck,” sae mutters, watching you fall apart, his cock bullying its way into your cervix with every sharp snap of his hips. “you love this, don’t you? love being stuffed full of my cock. say it.”

“y-yes! ah—fuck—love your cock, sae! love it—!” you sob, tears streaking down your cheeks as your orgasm coils, sharp and vicious in your gut. “good girl.” his words cut sharp, cruelly sweet. “but you’re not cumming yet.”

you wail at the denial, but sae’s relentless, fucking you through the edge, pace slowing just enough to keep you teetering, trembling.

“feel me inside you? stretching you out?” he groans low, voice strained but smug. “bet no one else could fuck you this full.” you’re babbling nonsense now, too fucked-out to care, pleading for him to let you cum, but sae’s ruthless, pushing you until your thighs shake violently.

“cum.” his command is final, snapping his hips in deep and hard, and you shatter—cumming around his cock with a broken scream.

but sae doesn’t stop. he fucks you through your high, fucking you until you’re a sobbing mess, overstimulated and drooling on the sheets, your body limp as he spills inside you with a grunt.

“lesson learned?” he breathes against your ear, pulling out slowly, watching his cum drip out of you with a satisfied smirk. you nod weakly, trembling, but you both know it won’t last.

based on this req !

© seidoll | don't copy, repost, or translate any of my work

[satorella]

Pencil You In .ᐟ

ʚɞ: levi, eren, armin, porco, erwin

note: you send them a calendar invite to make out !

warnings: sexual, crack, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

[satorella]

Pretty Little Baby .ᐟ

𝜗𝜚: satoru, suguru, nanami, choso, hiromi

note: they start using pet names ! early-relationship

warnings: sexual, suggestive, cursing, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

[satorella]

🌙🐈 afternoon nap

[satorella]

This man looks good in any angle

[satorella]

the act of dry humping is so sexy to me like, gripping one another, pulling at layers of clothes and biting one another’s lips while you grind against each other. moaning into parted lips, sucking on tongues, soaking through your underwear. hips smooshed against one another, rolling them back and forth with no real goal except for making each other feel good, just wanting to be close. maybe you cum, maybe you don’t but it’s all so desperate and dizzying..

[satorella]

Andddd the start of my BunSae era: 🐇🩵✨

Inspired by that infamous Hyluka panel of course.

They make me so curious… I’m super excited to learn more about their history!

[satorella]

Hot take but I don't like when Maomao has a close and loving relationship with her parents in Modern AUs.

Maomao wouldn't be Maomao without being raised the way she was. The author herself has said Maomao would've become an evil person if raised by her bio parents.

I get that people want her to have a happy life, but being raised by Luomen was literally the best case scenario for her to become who she is. She doesn't care to have a relationship with either of her parents, no matter how much Lakan wants it.

[satorella]

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠”

“Meine Liebe.” [My love.] 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 whispers, lightly poking your face to get your attention.

“Hm?” You hum with your lips wrapped around his cock, pausing your movements to look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours. How can you still look like such an angel even while his literal cock is in your damn mouth?

“How do you say ‘Ich höre zu’ in Englisch [English] again?” He whispers with his hand over the phone speaker. You released him with a pop! licking your lips before answering, “I’m listening.”

“Ah, ja. Danke.” [Ah, yes. Thank you.] He chuckles breathlessly, before repeating your translation to whoever is on the other end of the phone. Clearly it was something about soccer if he refused to hang up. Kaiser uses his free hand to move some of your hair out of the way and gently pushes your head back down.

“Du kannst jetzt weitermachen, wunderschöne.” [You can continue now, beautiful.] He smirks, caressing your cheek.

“I put the call on mute.”

© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[satorella]

“𝐃𝐨 𝒎𝒆 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝”

“Come to bed, Schatz.” 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 says as he leans against the kitchen doorway.

“Nngh, gotta do the dishes...” You sighed. Kaiser comes up behind you and presses his bulge against your lower back. “Come do me instead.” He purrs in your ear, making you shiver slightly.

His hands on your waist move around to your front, “I want to put a baby in you. Du wirst mich lassen, ja?” [You’ll let me, right?] One of his hands slither under your pajama shorts and panties.

He raises a brow as his finger collects a bit of your slick. “Ah, perfekt.” [Perfect]

© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[satorella]

Longing